If Hemingway Would Have Lived... A Compilation of Northern Michigan Seasonal Poetry Inspired by The Writings of Ernest Hemingway
By David Wyant
()
About this ebook
“All my life I've looked at words as though I were seeing them for the first time.” ~ Ernest Hemingway
The poems that follow remind us what could have been if Ernie had persisted on his youthful poetic vision which was inspired by his early religious training and the beauty of Petoskey.
Each poem, written in the spirit of Hemingway ( not a parody), by Author David Wyant would stand on it's own merits; however, when viewed as a haunting of Hemingway's, they will take on another
mysterious spiritual dimension.
Early fame had blinded Hemingway to ever giving thanks to God for his remarkable talent. Unfortunately, he began to believe his own press releases and the hard-boiled image created by publisher and tabloid alike.
Herein, we find a spirit that serves to polish Hem's tarnished image.
Had his vision stayed Petoskey-pure and had he pursued a personal Walk With The Lord, his poetry might have looked like this:
David Wyant
David Henry Wyant, M.Ed. was born in Rogers City Michigan, just 60 miles directly east of Petoskey, along Lake Huron. He graduated with honors from RCHS in 1959 during a time when most young Americans strongly felt the need to do what they could to beat Russia into outer space. At seventeen, he drew rocket plans for NASA.A graduate of Concordia Univ. Chicago(BA) and Wayne State Univ. Detroit, MI,(MA), Mr. Wyant taught elementary school for 30 years specializing in Art. He worked on a team which wrote the state Art curriculum for Florida.Author Wyant currently enjoys visits with his daughter, Lisa Luebke (wife of Randall), five grandchildren and one great grandchild who all live nearby in Boyne City, Michigan. Experiencing Petoskey's north woods will never be the same after you read, "The Lost Chronicles of Young Ernest Hemingway." "The Town that Haunted Hemingway"..."Side Door to Heaven for Hemingway"Mr. Wyant's previous books were environmental in nature:"A Compilation of Poems", Landscape painting with words"My Petoskey Stones"(192 pages regional poems) Extolling the natural beauty of Petoskey, MI"The Town that Haunted Hemingway." Extensive research of Hemingway’s youth in Petoskey area."Art Curriculum, State of FL." What every child should know about Art, K-12Mr. Wyant is available for readings of his books, writer's workshops and readings of his unique regional poetry.
Read more from David Wyant
The Town That Haunted Hemingway: The Slip and Fall of Young Ernie's Spirituality : The Gradual Corruption of America's Literary Genius Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsSTOLEN IN PARIS: The Lost Chronicles of Young Ernest Hemingway: Prudence Gets Pregnant Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsSide Door to Heaven for Hemingway Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsSTOLEN IN PARIS: The Lost Chronicles of Young Ernest Hemingway: Rum Runners Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsSTOLEN IN PARIS: The Lost Chronicles of Young Ernest Hemingway: The Marge Bump Affair Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsSTOLEN IN PARIS: The Lost Chronicles of Young Ernest Hemingway: Fishing the Great Two Hearted River Rating: 1 out of 5 stars1/5STOLEN IN PARIS: The Lost Chronicles of Young Ernest Hemingway: Ridin' the Rails: 1916 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsSTOLEN IN PARIS: The Lost Chronicles of Young Ernest Hemingway: The Indian Girl He Couldn't Forget Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5STOLEN IN PARIS: The Lost Chronicles of Young Ernest Hemingway: The Perks of Being a Doctor's Kid Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Inspiration For My Writings... STOLEN IN PARIS: A Look Behind The Scenes With Author David Wyant Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsSTOLEN IN PARIS: The Lost Chronicles of Young Ernest Hemingway: The Runaway Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsSTOLEN IN PARIS: The Lost Chronicles of Young Ernest Hemingway: Arditi: My Introduction to Italy's Elite Forces Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsSTOLEN IN PARIS: The Lost Chronicles of Young Ernest Hemingway: Recipe for Disaster Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsSTOLEN IN PARIS: The Lost Chronicles of Young Ernest Hemingway: Wilderness Escape; Running from Turdface, Game Warden Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratings
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If Hemingway Would Have Lived... A Compilation of Northern Michigan Seasonal Poetry Inspired by The Writings of Ernest Hemingway - David Wyant
If Hemingway Would Have Lived...
A Compilation of Northern Michigan Seasonal Poetry
Inspired by the Writings of Ernest Hemingway
Published by David Wyant at Smashwords
Copyright 2013 David H. Wyant
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
**********
Table of Contents
Winter
Spring
Summer
Autumn
Winter
All my life I've looked at words as though I were seeing them for the first time.
~ Ernest Hemingway
The poems that follow remind us what could have been if Ernie had persisted on his youthful poetic vision which was inspired by his early religious training and the beauty of Petoskey.
Each poem, written in the spirit of Hemingway ( not a parody), by Author David Wyant would stand on it's own merits; however, when viewed as a haunting of Hemingway's, they will take on another
mysterious spiritual dimension.
Early fame had blinded Hemingway to ever giving thanks to God for his remarkable talent. Unfortunately, he began to believe his own press releases and the hard-boiled image created by publisher and tabloid alike.
Herein, we find a spirit that serves to polish Hem's tarnished image.
Had his vision stayed Petoskey-pure and had he pursued a personal Walk With The Lord, his poetry might have looked like this:
Bay Front Clock
February 27, 2008
Bay front clock stands smugly tall
Overlooking boat slip stall,
Vacant now for one good reason-
Waiting for a warmer season.
Petoskey’s towering time piece
Starkly asks us all to see,
"What have you done with life’s short lease
As viewed against eternity?"
Dobson, too once mentioned sly,
"Time flies, you say?
Alas, ah no, time stays,
‘Tis we who fly."
Along life’s classic continuum stage,
Where birth and youth mature to age
Comes fond advice from English sage.
But, now say I,
Eventually ‘tis not time, but gravity
Which gets us all!
Grinds us down,
Treats all the same,
Backs us all into the ground
To soil from whence we came.
Behooves us all
To reason why,
Then ready leave some legacy
Which lifts beyond depravity,
Transcends this flesh and deifies.
Ascend us up to Kingdom’s throne.
Messiah came, the deed is done.
‘Twas in His blood
Where power lay
To lift us all, e’en flesh and bone,
Transport us to our rightful home.
Bavfront Birches
February 7, 2007
Imagine my surprise
When right before my eyes,
Shielded from the winter's breeze,
I found a healthy birch tree.
There it stood!
It made me stare
At its elegant white wood,
And shaggy Afro hair.
At Bayfront Park
We all can view
How its unique bark
Once made a canoe.
With branches strong,
Straight and narrow,
They also make...
The perfect arrow.
Of course the pine
Is very fine.
Stays green
All through the winter,
But I have found
Their arrows bound
And eventually will splinter.
Birch beauty makes the nicest fixture.
Makes brides pose
To get a picture.
Their grooms stand by
For a shirt tail tuck
In hopes the tree
Will bring them luck.
Birchwood poles
Are fine for fishin’
Makes good cabinets
For the kitchen.
Birchwood is light,
Not real hard-
I’d like to see
A birchtree
In every yard.
If woodpeckers
Would just stay away
There’d be more around
To this very day.
A poet may try
to swing on them,
A tourist
Might carve his name,
There are not many birches
Left these days .
And that’s a crying shame.
Pollution might be killing them,
Bugs might be drilling them.
Bird nests should be filling them,
For I love them
Just the same.
Choice or Chance
February 16, 2007
Gigantic gray rollers- with a grudge-
Stratospheric, catastrophic clouds- without- mercy
Edge slowly,
Now lurching towards Nubs.
Five-thirty golden sun
Gilds these atmospheric monsters
Into appearing harmless
Or fun.
But, onward
Spill they, bedecked,
Belching,
Snorting, smothering our deck.
With that terribly thick
Covering,
Called, lake effect.
Ice anglers
Abandon their shacks.
Now swiftly make tracks!
For mainland safety
Avoiding the cracks.
No fish is worth it!
Most will remark,
-
But, Skiers rejoice,
Hit the slopes before dark!
Two totally divergent
Points of view.
Makes me wonder.
Does it you?
Some see a snow storm
And run from its blast,
While another group
Loves it,
Prays it will last.
In what camp can we find you?
When challenges begin?
Do you gasp or do you grin?
Run you out
Or run you in?
Will you shrink?
When times get tough?
Be thee firm
And boldly adjust?
I think of the German
Para- glider girl-
Caught up by accident in similar swirl,
Drifted into a terrific storm,
She did not panic, as would be the norm,
But rode it out
Thirty thousand feet high,
Landed in Australia with only a bruised thigh.
Or Lindberg,
Or Yeager
Sound Barrier Breakthrough
The Wright brothers too
-
What did they do?
All traveled beyond
the status quo
Danced on the edge
Of disaster for you!
Where would we be
Without (wo)men of vision?
Harnessing: air travel,
Nuclear fission,
-
Probing deeper than those gone before!
Men of adventure,
Loving the lore!
Day Before Spring
(One Solitary Mink)
March 19, 2009
Twenty four most bleak degrees
With bitter wind which rocks pine trees
Leaves nothing to brag about or sing
This blessed, last day before spring.
Yet one solitary, slender mink
With caution wends his nervous way
Along the frigid brink
Where slippery flows an icy ledge
With jitter, stops he brief at River’s icy edge.
Fleet of foot this furry